One Of Those Boss Employee Relationships
by PatheticWhiteSlime
Summary: JennyTonyAU.
1. Count Him In

**Disclaimer: **Nothing recognizable belongs to me or brings me any profit. This includes the show "NCIS" and its characters. **Author's Notes: **This is the first NCIS fic I've written, nervous and I actually have only been watching since this summer, so I might have gotten some details wrong. I apologize in advance. This is for a claim over at LJ... The prompt for each fic is a song. They're more 'ficlets' than 'fics'... they'll all be around 300 words or so, posted in chronological order. This one's song is "Party Starter" (Will Smith). I just imagined this kind of music would be playing in the background. Time period: just before Tony joins NCIS. Reviews would be nice, especially 'cause I have no clue whether I can/should write NCIS or not. **

* * *

_Count Him In_**

The hip-hop playing at the cop bar was loud, the voices needed to be louder. "So, you're the new director over at NCIS."

"Yes." The new voice, though feminine, was equally loud and assertive.

"And you want me to think about joining?"

"Yes."

_Why can't she just say 'yeah', like a normal person? At least she's hot, or I wouldn't be wasting my time here. I'm a cop, through and through. _"You don't waste words, do you Director?"

"No." Accompanied with a smirk and confidently leaning back in her chair and tilting her head to the right side just a few centimeters, the light radiated off her hair, mesmerizing and bewitching him.

He should have left right then. He was happy with his salary. He was happy as a cop. "Why should I join NCIS?"

"We're the best." Another smirk, no, this time it was a genuine smile. She tilted her head to the left and he felt his eyes following that smile.

"That's what they all say. Now, I've gotten plenty-a offers…"

It was a half-hearted statement, she knew he was just fishing for reasons not to join. She wasn't going to give him any chances to slip away. "No, you haven't."

Caught in the act. Shoot. "Who says I need a new job?"

"I'm trying to build up a new team from scratch, most of the old guys left. I've got the best team leader, the best forensics lab and technician, the best coroner, and the best field agents available. We need a good agent who knows the area well, whose got good instincts. I think it's you."

"I like the way you think, Director. Count me in."


	2. Three Degrees Below

**Prompt:** "Say My Name" – Destiny's Child **Disclaimer: **Nothing recognizable belongs to me or brings me any profit. This includes the show "NCIS" and its characters. **Author's Notes: **Yeah. Me again. This is kind of AU from the show. 'Cause I twisted, I guess – some of the plots to be the way I want them to be. If you don't like them… sorry. If you do… comments are always welcome/ appreciated/ loved/ like chocolate.

_

* * *

Three Degrees Below_

Anthony DiNozzo did not like to admit when he was wrong. Okay, he could admit it to himself- but just not to other people. He was wrong –big time wrong, frostbite versus no frostbite wrong- this time. He glanced through the glass front of the NCIS building and, just as quickly, back out again. He had told McGeek that negative three degrees wasn't cold, not at all. _I guess I could tell him I meant Celsius, not Fahrenheit…_ He glanced at his watch on more time.

What a perfect day to have his car break down. Freeze down, is more like it. So he had to call a taxi to get to work. Late. And then he had to call a taxi to get home. And then he had to brag about the anti-freeze that runs through the blood of all DiNozzos, giving them Superman-like powers which allows them to stand outside in sub-zero temperatures. For an extended amount of time_. I'm such an idiot._

He glanced back inside at the rest of his team sitting on a cozy couch. Abby was clutching a stopwatch covered in red skulls in one hand, omnipresent Caf-Pow in the other; McGee typing furiously on a small laptop, probably calculating the time it would take for the taxi to arrive, given the icy roads and the speed of the average taxi driver, or some other math mumbo jumbo; and Ducky with a cap full of loose change and a few crumpled bills.

At least no one else was crazy enough, (or had enough pride) to be standing out here with him. A shadow moved, and Tony jumped. It moved once more, and shrank in size until the owner was just a few feet to the side of him. It's owner called out, "Couldn't you get someone to drive you home, either, could you Tony?"

"I could say the same to you, Director."

The smile on her was gone in an instant. She glowered at the ground and -was she- no, she wasn't. "Could you, for like once in your life, not call me that?" It came out bitter and resentful, but Tony wasn't known for his tactfulness.

"Sorry, Director Sheppard. I can't believe you just said 'like'." He whistled the _Twilight Zone _theme for a few bars, then stopped when he realized that she was. Crying. Hard.

Two taxis pulled up simultaneously and stalled their engines. _Director- cold- taxi- NCIS- crying… _"Jenny." It was so soft, he wasn't sure she'd heard him at first, but when her arm twitched slightly so he continued. "I guess your car's in the shop, too, huh? How 'bout you an' me…" he paused to open the car door for her "…go get something to drink." It wasn't a question, as they were already going down the street when he stopped talking and started listening.


	3. BahDeep

**Prompt:** "Stars" – Switchfoot **Disclaimer: **Nothing recognizable belongs to me or brings me any profit. This includes the show "NCIS" and its characters. **Author's Notes: **Yeah. Another one. This is kind of AU from the show. 'Cause I twisted, I guess – some of the plots to be the way I want them to be. If you don't like them… sorry. If you do… comments are always welcome/ appreciated/ loved/ like chocolate. This is kinda short… Okay, it's really short. They just weren't coming to me today. Or yesterday, for that matter.

Gibbs question: I have no clue. No one really knows about them yet... and they aren't officially dating.

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_Bah-Deep_

Bah-deep. "Tony." _Poke. _Bah-Deep. "To-ny." _Jab. _"BAH-DEEP. "Tony!" _Pour. _

Spluttering, squirting, and yelling, he sat up and grabbed at the intruder. It yelped. A girly yelp. Using his Special Agent Super Powers (which came in handy at moments like these) he determined that It was a girl. Well, it could have been McGeek, who was King (or would it be Queen?) of the girly yelps, except for the fact that McGeek didn't smell like this. This also ruled out Kate and Abby, the latter who used a perfume called "Killing You Softly" and whose bottle was adorned with angry red skull-and-bones on the label. It smelled nothing like the lavender he was inhaling now. It also couldn't be Ziva, or he would be lying on the floor, unconscious and very likely paralyzed.

It responded to the strong grip with an equally strong jab in the ribs. "You fell asleep on my couch. And your phone is making funny noises. You can let go now." Something black and heavy was shoved in his face.

"Wha- oh." _A text message… or twelve. From… Karen. _"You didn't…"

"Look at them? I'm not a snoop, Anthony DiNozzo."

"Didn't say you were."

"You thought it."

"Did you look at them?"

"Maybe."

He grabbed her again. "I might just have to make you shut up."

"How so, D?"

"Like this, J."

First kiss. He was soaking wet, she was being a snoop, and they were both happy.


	4. Supreme

**Prompt:** "Monkey Around" – Seussical the Musical **Disclaimer: **Nothing recognizable belongs to me or brings me any profit. This includes the show "NCIS" and its characters. **Author's Notes: **Comments are always welcome/ appreciated/ loved/ like chocolate. Jen is in sort of a silly mood in this one… but we all have to act like kindergarteners sometime, right? Can you guess what I was eating when I wrote this?

RE: Advice: I never said I couldn't write a good one line summary, only that I hated them. I stated in the first chapter that they were ficlets. If I wanted to write a Memorial Epic on the lives of Jenny and Tony, I would. I'm writing the way I want, and I don't like meaningless conversation and description where none is needed. By the way, you never actually said what you thought of the ficlets... isn't _that_ what a discerning reader does? Thank you for taking the time.

Gah! I'm loosing my mind! I've done about twenty million stupid things today, and I hope this ficlet isn't one of them.

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_Supreme_

"Ah… Jen?"

"Mmphft?" _Flick. Chew. _

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Mmphft." _Chew. Flick. _He grabbed her wrist mid-flick, and pointed to the green pepper balanced on the back of her left index fingernail. She followed his gaze from her finger to the pizza box laying open on the floor, a small mound of flicked items in one corner.

"We got a medium supreme pizza."

"You must have excellent short term memory, Tony."

"Dir…" He cut off when she jabbed him in the stomach. "Jenny, I don't appreciate sarcasm."

"Commenting on your memory isn't sarcasm?"

The light-hearted insult flew straight over his head and he started talking again. "We got a medium supreme pizza. Because you said it was your favorite kind."

"It is." She nibbled on the edge of a piece and smirked at the annoyed expression on his face.

"You look like the cat that ate the mouse. You laughing at me, J?" She answered in the form of a grin and a huge bite of pizza. "You are laughing at me." _Nod._ "Why did you order a supreme pizza, and pick off all the toppings?"

"'Cause that's the way I like it."

"You're confusing me."

"When I was little, my mom would order me and my…" she took a few seconds to shift around on the couch so that her feet were warm underneath a pillow. "…little brother a supreme pizza every other Thursday when she had to work late. And we hated everything but the black olives." Tony glanced down at the last piece of pizza in her hands. Dough, tomato sauce, cheese, black olives. He turned his head sideways to look at the pile of now cold vegetables on the greasy pizza box. Mushrooms, pepperoni, green peppers.

"That makes sense."

"Of course it does."

"You're so sure about yourself, Director?" Speaking before thinking is never a good idea. Expecting a jab, and getting nothing but silence is never a comforting thing. Tony peeked over the refuge that was his pillow and swallowed.

"New rule?"

_What is this, elementary school? _"Sure." It came out as a croak. This wasn't elementary school, this was high school all over again.

"Don't mix work and pleasure?" He gave a nod, and got a piece of pizza (smothered with sauce, cheese, and black olives) splat in the face. "Supreme."


End file.
